


Sexy Secret Santa

by blueartemis07



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:03:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueartemis07/pseuds/blueartemis07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tracey makes her co-workers participate in a very Muggle tradition. But why?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sexy Secret Santa

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glitter pink](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=glitter+pink).



****

“What is this stupid activity called again?” Draco asked disdainfully.

“Secret Santa,” said Hermione.

“Stupid Suck-up.” said Pansy.

The two witches glared at each other. 

Tracey Davis had set everything up, so she stepped in before it turned into a hex match. “Look, you whiny batch of babies, it is a gift exchange. You give small gifts to the person you choose out of the hat, and then on the last day, they get a nice gift and you spend the day with them,” Tracey explained. 

“Fine, Davis, fine. Just be sure the spells on the hat work right, OK?” Draco sneered at her as he walked out of the regular Wednesday meeting held for the more junior members of the various departments at the Ministry.

As Draco was walking out, he ran into Ron and Neville, who had been running down the hall, trying frantically to get to the meeting before it was over. Neville tripped over his robe trying to get out of Draco’s way and accidentally pushed Ron into the room, where he fell down awkwardly, sliding until his feet hit the wall. His head was under Pansy’s robes. 

Pansy jumped up, screeching. “What do you have to say for yourself, Weasley?”

“Nice knickers?” Ron asked, hoping it was the right answer. 

Pansy’s huff of anger made him realize it wasn’t. She flounced out, muttering about stupid gingers the entire way down the hall.

Tracey narrowed her eyes at the two idiots who had almost destroyed her meeting. The whole thing had been her idea, melding the old Muggle tradition she remembered from primary school with some magical enforcement. 

“So, what are we supposed to be doing, Tracey?” asked Neville.

“You provide little gifts for six days to the person whose name you pick out of the hat, and a big gift on the seventh day, and you will have a dinner date with that person that will put the gift to use,” she answered. She walked out of the room with her nose in the air.

Neville looked puzzled. “What kind of gifts, Ron?”

Ron’s mind was still under Pansy’s robes. “Sexy ones.”

Neville swallowed hard. “I hope I don’t get Pansy, then.”

Ron waited until Neville was out of earshot. “I hope I do.”

****

Two days later, Tracey was walking around the Ministry holding the red hat with the white trim out to her victims participants. Hermione looked at her co-workers and reached in first. She looked at the name, nodded, and put it into her pocket. 

“Good job, Granger.”

“Hey, why didn’t she tell us who she got?” demanded Ron.

“That’s the ‘secret’ part, stupid,” said Pansy.

“Oh.” Ron nodded and shrugged. 

He reached into the bag and fought hard to keep a smile off his face. Then he just gave in and grinned, shoving the paper into his pocket. 

He was followed by Susan, Harry, Draco, Neville, Luna, Theo, Pansy, and Percy.

All of them pocketed their slips of paper. Tracey smiled in delight. She had marked the back of the slips with little marks that only she could see due to the spell she had put on them. She had managed to pair everyone off with their best arithmantic match. Now, to write down her observations. She would have that position as Minister’s Arithmancer if it killed her. 

****

Hermione walked slowly to her office, tapping a quill against her lips. _What will I get for Neville? He’s always been such a sweetheart…_

Neville looked at his slip of paper and gulped. _No one knows that I’ve loved her since first year, right?_ He thought back to everything he’d ever heard Hermione say in the common room regarding any fantasies. He nodded. One thing with most people not noticing him until he took that head off the snake was that he could hear a lot. He smiled… He knew what he was going to do.

****

Hermione had everything planned. She had found a lovely book on “magical and protective” plants by a muggle that she thought would entertain Neville. It certainly had its roots in real magic; she thought the original oral tradition it was based on may have come from a squib.

His first gift was a window box for herbs. He smiled when he received it, which pleased Hermione no end; even if she was hiding in an alcove to see his reaction. 

She had tried to set a ward on her door to catch her giftee, but somehow it failed. Disturbed, she saw that there was a box on her desk. She opened it, only to find she received a pot of chocolate, with a note that said, “Hold all your gifts for our final exchange.” She looked in the non-descript box and gasped. It was made by Limitless Chocolate, the best magical chocolatiers in Europe. It may not have been expensive, it was a small pot, but it was her favorite. 

Hermione wasn’t certain what was going on with everyone else’s gifts, but she was pleased with her first day, both the gift she gave and the gift she got. 

****

Ron hoped Pansy would like her gifts. He read every book Fred and George ever gave him on how to keep a witch. George and Fred’s ghost both gave him great advice about where to shop. There was a new place that Lavender and Parvati were running that had the best stuff in it…

Pansy wasn’t quite sure what to do for the big, stupid, ginger she had been stuck with. She didn’t want to think about it very much. Her family ran a restaurant. She’d feed him.

****

The week continued with all the pairs giving each other their smaller gifts. Tracey’s charms kept them from knowing exactly who was providing their gifts. She did get updates on how well it was going from each person, she was pleased at the results. 

Saturday came almost too quickly.

Tracey had them all meet in the Atrium with wrapped gifts. She had portkeys for all of the pairs. 

“Malfoy and Potter, this one is yours,” she said, as she tossed them an old tennis ball.

“Bones and Nott.” 

“Lovegood and P. Weasley.”

“Parkinson and R. Weasley.”

“Last but not least, Granger and Longbottom.”

All the teams looked at Tracey as she held up a list. “You all have your portkeys. Enjoy your evenings!” 

“Wait, Tracey, you paired us off?” asked Hermione.

“Portkeys are triggering in three seconds. I will explain everything when you return,” Tracey said with a grin.

****

Three seconds later, Hermione felt a hook-like feeling behind her navel, as she and Neville were whisked away. 

They landed a few seconds later, in the middle of a secluded grotto. Hermione looked around and saw it had all of the gifts she had given Neville. 

“Is this on your estate, Neville?”

Neville was grinning. “Yes. I didn’t know Tracey was paying so much attention to what I had told her during her interviews.”

“Interviews? I thought she was just checking on us,” she said. 

“Well, I wanted to know what she had planned. Most event planners don’t take such detailed notes, you know?”

“What did you find out?” Hermione leaned closer to Neville, putting her hand on his arm. 

Neville looked down at her hand, then went to take her hand and pull her toward the comfortable looking chaise lounge. As he moved toward it, he tripped over the leg of the table holding the food and went down hard, taking Hermione with him.

Hermione was startled as she fell, then confused when she realized she really liked the way she felt against Neville’s larger, firmer body.

She was trying to find a good place to put her hand down to push herself off when he wrapped his arms around her. 

“Did you figure out what the little gifts were?” he whispered into her ear.

Hermione thought about it. Excellent pot of chocolate, fresh whipped cream, strawberries, an old Gryffindor tie, a book of erotic poetry and a blindfold. The large gift was the meal of her favorites displayed on the table. “All of my romantic fantasies?” Her voice cracked a bit on the end of her question.

“Yeah,” he almost breathed, then braced himself and pushed into a sitting position, giving her a graceful way to escape the closeness of his body.

Hermione managed to get up and sit on the edge of the lounge without making them fall again. 

Neville sat on the ground and blew a breath to try to get the lock of hair that had covered his eye out of the way.

“Why would you do that? This was just supposed to be friendly, not sexy!”

Neville’s entire body drooped. “That’s what I get for listening to Ron.” He heaved an exasperated breath. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I figured I would use it as an opportunity to show you how I really feel. And since Tracey put that ‘must use’ clause into the magic, we are going to have to eat the stuff together at the very least.”

“No, Nev–– I, well, I didn’t mean I didn’t like it. I just don’t understand. You’ve never made any sort of move, or given me any indication you liked me,” she said. 

“I’m still me, Hermione. Awkward, clumsy, Neville. Nothing more. And you are you. I never thought I’d have a chance.”

She took the hand he had placed on the lounge as he was speaking. “I’m willing to give you a chance. But if you want to do more than just enjoy the meal and the lovely dessert you’ve provided, you have to tell me just how you knew exactly what I would like.”

Neville threw back his head and laughed in relief. “Oh, that’s easy. No one ever noticed me, Hermione. No one. I heard more secrets and fantasies in that common room than you would ever believe.”

Hermione blushed. Neville was right. He just didn’t stand out, not while they were in school. And she missed that last year when he took charge. “All right then, let’s eat.”

They both stood up and walked over to the table, which was laden with salmon, prime rib and asparagus, wine and cheese and potato leek soup. 

The conversation over the meal was comfortable and fun. Hermione couldn’t remember when she had laughed so much. Neville had a keen eye and really did know stories about anyone who crossed his path.   
“Did you like your gifts, Neville?”

“Are you kidding? The book was great. The herbs and plants that you found that went with it are lovely, you found some specimens I didn’t have. And the final one? That beautiful ginko biloba bush? Did you know those are hard to grow here? But you found one suited to this property. I have it in a place of honor near the other plants that are good for acuity potions,” he said excitedly.

“I’m so glad. You had been talking about the cross-over of Muggle and magical plants, and then I found that book, and…” she trailed off at the look on his face, and went back to her food. The intensity of his gaze was almost too much.

When they finished eating, the plates vanished, and all her gifts appeared on the table. 

Neville looked at the ground, then looked back at Hermione, looking like the boy she first met, peering through the fringe of hair that flopped over his face. 

Just as she was about to say something, he spoke. 

“Um, do you want to just eat those?”

She smiled at him. “No, I think we should move over to the lounge,”

He grinned, then tripped over the end of the table again. He managed not to fall this time. 

“So, if I remember correctly, you wanted to be tied to a something with the tie, blindfolded, then fed the food items, while the poetry was read to you, right?”

Hermione gulped, then nodded. 

“I think I can manage that,” he said. “But I have a bit of a twist for you, OK?”

“What twist?”

“I’m going to read one line of poetry. If you can’t identify it, then I get to remove one of your clothing items. Sound good?”

“Strip poetry reading?” Hermione giggled. “I don’t know how I can say no to that.”

She gingerly leaned back and let him bind her hands to the top of the lounge with his old Gryffindor tie. She liked the gentleness with which he tied the blindfold around her head. 

He dipped one of the strawberries into the chocolate and then the whipped cream. He fed it to her tenderly. Then he sat back and read a line of poetry to her. “I watch her from afar, she doesn’t know I’m there.”

“I don’t know that one, Neville,” she said. She giggled nervously when he removed her shoes. 

She didn’t know the next three either, and her socks, jumper and jeans vanished. 

“Nice knickers,” he said thickly.

She was wearing a peach colored lace and silk bra and pant set matched her skin tone so well she almost looked naked.

Hermione reached out and ran her hand up the leg she felt next to her, until she reached his rather firm erection. 

Neville sucked in a deep breath. 

“You’re wearing too much,” she said. 

Hermione wished she could see what was going on because she could hear Neville trying to disrobe. He seemed to have forgotten he was wearing shoes, and started hopping, banged into the table and cursed. She laughed. 

“What?”

“I’m so glad you haven’t changed, Neville. Now, if your clothes are gone, and you haven’t injured yourself, I think I have a couple more lines of poetry to miss.”

Neville moved back to the lounge and sat next to her. She missed the next line, and he carefully undid the snap between her breasts and peeled the bra back from her skin. He ran his hands up from her waist to cup her in his large hands and knead. She arched her back. 

“More!”

He obliged her by leaning down to suckle one nipple while rolling the other in his fingers and pinching it a bit. 

Hermione gasped. “Don’t we have one last line?”

“Oh, yeah. He picked the book up from where it had fallen. ‘Now I see her, before me, a bountiful feast, and she is mine.’ So do you know it?”

“No,” she whispered. 

He pulled her knickers down until he got them completely off of her. “Beautiful,” he said, almost reverently.

“Neville, worship later. Make love to me now!”

“Bossy as ever, I see,” he said affectionately. 

He moved so he was braced above her, then leaned down to kiss her. She pushed herself into the kiss, their tongues entwining. “Ready?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes.”

He thrust into her all at once, sheathing himself completely, making her gasp in response. He pulled out and pushed back in rhythmically while she did her best to meet each thrust with an upward movement of her hips. 

The pace increased until she began to shudder beneath him in completion and he moved forward one last time. As he spent himself inside of her, the lounge had enough and the legs gave out, crashing them into the ground. 

“Well, Neville, you can say you made the earth move,” Hermione said breathlessly once she figured out what had happened. 

He looked down at her, watching her breasts bob with her laughter and just gave up and joined in. “You can’t say you will ever be bored, now, can you?” he asked as he removed the blindfold and tie from Hermione.

“No, that won’t ever be said.” She looked around. “Hey, you didn’t use all of the dessert! I think I know what we are doing next.”

Neville didn’t tell her he’d written the poetry himself until the next morning over breakfast.

****

The next Monday, all of the couples met up with Tracey in the conference room. As she opened her mouth to speak, Hermione interrupted her. 

“I hope you get the job you wanted, Tracey. And thanks.”

Tracey smiled as the rest of them burst into applause. She had her job, and this set of idiots could stop dancing around each other. She thought she might see what would happen if she ran the numbers for the Hogwarts staff for her next project.


End file.
